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Brahm was late, as per his usual fashion. In fact, he was even later than he was for the first match, and when he was this late, he had a tendancy to not notice what was between him and his goal. So it was that everything sort of passed by (or more often tumbled over and under) him as he sprinted down the steps and vaulted down into the arena. When he landed he noticed the squashed remains of a hot dog on his shoulder. Brahm picked it up and took a bite out of it, wondering at what that odd sense of deja vu was.

Sadly, there was no cheering for Brahm as he entered the ring. He sort of figured that would be the case. Despite having won the last match, he basically spent most of it getting his a** handed to him. In fact there were now a fair amount of people booing and jeering at him. The only people cheering for him consisted of a small group of children in the front row. Brahm decided they were the only ones in the stands who mattered anyway and not to let it get to him. He finished his quick snack with a smile and dusted his hands off, ready to brawl.

"Mmm... good stuff. Allright, lets get this business started!"

"AUGH!" Brahm turned his head as soon as the flash was given off. His eyes were sensitive to light, which was why he had the big black weilding goggles over his eyes. These thankfully protected him from most of the blinding effects of the flash, but his vision was still slightly dazzled. He tried shaking his head violently to remove the spots from his vision, fully aware it was a futile exercise. He turned to look again at his opponent. After what was obviously an attempt to throw him off kilter he was expecting to see his opponent barelling down on him. Ordinarily he was the one to make the first charge, but he wasn't stupid enough to do it half blind.

It was actually rather surprising to not find his opponent trying to bludgeon him while he was dazzled. Brahm took a moment to let his vision finally clear up and smirked across the arena. His opponent was apparently the chivalrous type, which was both a strength and a weakness depending on the circumstances.

"Mighty kind of you sir. May the best man win right?"

Seizing the graciously offered initiative, Brahm redied himself and began to run towards Ramone full tilt. Despite what happened during the last match, he was still going to open this fight the way he did before. No apparent attack position, his goal seemed to simply be plowing straight into his opponent with his whole body mass. The bull charge was accompanied by a belching of black smog from the smokestacks sprouting out of his back and a loud shout as his engine reached the neccessary RPM's.

"ENGAGING SECOND GEAR!"

Brahm's grin widened as his opponent charged forward to meet him halfway. This was certainly his kind of fighter! Odds were most people who saw armor that heavy and large barelling down on them would get the hell out of the way as quickly as possible. Brahm however was not built like most people.

He didn't slow down. In fact, after the gear shift his pace doubled. Ramone's position with the sword behind the sheild brought to mind a Matador, rapier poised and hidden from the bull's view. Brahm wasn't a hundred percent certain his body could hold up to an attempted skewering today, and so at the last second just before the two of them collided he curled his torso forward and ducked down low. He did this in such away that he was pushing off with his right foot at that moment, while curling is right shoulder forward, aiming to slam into his opponents legs. or the lower part of the sheild, depending on how it was held.

Either way, if it worked he'd be hitting Ramone well below their center of gravity. Much like an lineman in american football plowing through a receiver who was in the middle of a jumping catch. The high speed the both of them were moving would only make the impact more jarring and send Ramone tumbling wildly. Brahm figured that while armor like that could certainly travel fast, it probably wasn't particularly agile, and it would likely take Ramone a second or two to get back on his feet, giving Brahm time to make an other attack.

Ramone's effective blocking worked a little better than he likely planned, and sent Brahm tumbling off wildly himself. If he wasn't as sturdy as he was, he'd probably have dislocated his shoulder from that hit. As it was his shoulder simply hurt like hell now. That wouldn't be too much trouble, as there was nothing like dealing out a good a** kicking to get your mind off your own aches and pains.

By the time Brahm rose to his feet and turned to face his opponent, Ramone was already accellerating towards him. If he had the time, he probably would've chuckled at his opponents tactics, and begun to doubt the random factor in these matchups. As it was he only had time to react right now, and that meant doing a quick shoulder roll to his right at the last second. This would put him on the shield side of Ramone, which should hopefully mean he would be safe from any last minute attempts to swing that giant goddamn sword at him.

Assuming Ramone couldn't stop on a dime at that speed, he's pass right by Brahm in a near miss. At this point he'd learn he didn't have a copywrite on that kind of attack style. Brahm would roll to his feet facing his opponent from behind and c**k his right arm back as if to throw a straight punch. The metal cuffs on his arm would then open their vents, causing a small explosion just behind his right elbow as the built up steam in his pressure chambers was released in a powerful jet. Brahm would be propelled forward in a powerful rocket-punch attack, aiming straight for the back of Ramone's head.

An opponent who learned from his mistakes! To Brahm that already put Ramone above most of the others he'd faced recently. He was rather shocked at how unnafective his blow was however. Even if only in 2nd gear he had the capability to punch through brick walls like they were butter. Still, he was never one to shy away from a challenge.

The seven feet Ramone skidded was a pretty negligable distance considering the two combatants obscene height and reach. Ramone's own sword could cover well past that distance when you factored in his arm length. So it was that Brahm was able to press the attack rather than give Ramone time to recover.

He charged forward, using the thick metal cuff around his left wrist to block and smack away Ramone's sword. He stepped to ramone's left and attempted to grab the edges of the shield with both hands. He would twist his lower body to his own left first, adding power to when he twisted his upper body immediately afterward into a mighty swing. Brahm figured one of three things would happen from this. Either A: Ramone would let go of the shield (if indeed he could and it wasn't built into the armor), B: Brahm would underestimate how well the sheild was held on and it would just rip off, or C: The shield would somehow stay where it was and Brahm would end up throwing Ramone himself to the ground. It mattered little to him, as any of them would give him an advantage.

This was a close call for Ramone. After tossing his opponent face first into the dirt, Brahm took a few steps backwards. He then made those same steps quickly forward and made a quick hop into the air. His goal was pretty simple: land and stand on his opponents back and start stomping on their head. Even if the helmet could withstand such abuse, the impact would be jarring enough to keep Ramone from fighting back very effectively. Sadly this meant that Brahm was just stomping down on Ramone's back when the thrusters went off.

"I don't freaking believe this."

That was Brahm's next thought, almost a full second later. It took him a moment to realise what had just happened. This was the SECOND time in as many fights in a row that he was sent flying while planting a foot on his opponents back. This time he didn't seem to be travelling quite so fast, but it sure as hell hurt alot more. Brahm's body was naturally heat resistant, but those tempuratures were a bit much even for him. The entire right side of his body was now a slightly redder shade than the left. The bottom half of the cuff around his right wrist seemed to to be warped and slightly melted as well. He must've thrown that arm in front of his face reflexively. That seemed to take stock of things for the moment, so what was it he was forgetting?

Oh yes, the ground.

"OOF! AUGH! OW! DAMMIT! GAH!!!"

He cursed and shouted as he bounced several times along the ground before finally coming to a complete stop. This put him almost half the arena's width away from Ramone. The overall damage wasn't as bad as when he dealt with this from Raven, but it still hurt like hell. He was smoldering both literally and figuretively. After a few seconds he began chuckling darkly and going about the long process of getting back on his feet.